Road To Nowhere
by Oxygenhelpsyouwrite
Summary: When Sam and Dean Winchesters mother died, their father abandoned them so he could go hunt down the thing that killed her. Instead of growing up hunting, the boys grow up trying to survive on the cruel streets of Wichita, earning their living not so honestly. AU! Hurt/Sam MinorHurt/Dean Druggie/Sam
1. This Old Dog

**Hello everyone! It has now officially been almost a year since I last uploaded anything to Fanfiction... that's insane.**

 **I don't really know why I took SUCH a long break, but my interest in supernatural kind of faded a little bit, but now I love it more than ever, and I'm feeling a surge of inspiration for writing.**

 **I've re-written this chapter, and changed it quite a bit. I'm going to be writing a second chapter as soon as I can, but stick with me as I am going back to school tomorrow. (I'm going into year 10.) so I hope you like it.**

 **Lily**

* * *

Sam locked eyes with his brother from across the 7/11, their eyes meeting quickly before dean gave Sam a knowing nod.

The bored and greasy teenager behind the counter was more interested in his phone than Sam and Dean, which played to their advantage.

Sam slowly walked to the back of the shop, his eyes wandering to the 'staff only' door. Dean strode to the counter, flashing his whitest smile.

He rested both hands on the counter and blocked the boys view of Sam.

" _Hey dude, do you think I could...uhhh... a bottle of jack please_?"

The teen jumped, suddenly drawn away from social media, and nodded, hurriedly turning around and scanning the shelves full of malts and whiskeys.

Sam watched as his brother created a diversion (albeit only temporary), and quickly opened the door behind him, scanning the small room whilst shutting the door quietly; it was dank and dark, the only furniture a small oak set of a table and chairs.

The dim light illuminated an almost pre-historic computer screen, which he ran towards, careful to not make any noise.

He sat down on a small and rusted desk chair and started to type, carefully disabling the CCTV inside and out of the gas station.

The teen turned around and put the bottle of jack on the counter.

" _Anything else, sir?_ "

The teen frowned as he noticed that the other guy had seemingly disappeared.

" _Dude... where did your friend go_?" The teen asked.

Dean smiled innocently and pointed to an empty car, parked near a gas pump, the neon 7/11 sign illuminating it in the depth of the night.

" _In there._ "

The teen frowned incredulously as he scanned the empty car again.

" _There's literally no one in the-_ "

" _I'd like a pack of Marlboros as well._ " Dean grinned.

The teen stared in confusion at dean for a minute before shaking himself out of it and turning back around to scan the tobacco section to get what the guy wanted.

Sam smiled triumphantly to himself as he watched as the CCTV monitors went blank, and logged off, creeping up to the door, listening to the muffled murmuring of the conversation outside.

He slowly pushed the door open, glancing at the teenager as he was getting something off the shelf for dean.

He glanced at the screen above the counter, the interface black now.

Sam grinned as he walked down the aisle to meet with dean, who was now reaching for the gun in his back pocket.

The teenager had just grabbed the packet of Marlboros when he heard a subtle but familiar click.

He froze.

" _Don't move a muscle_." Deans words were slow and deliberate.

His body instantly felt infinitely heavier, and he swallowed down an invisible lump in his throat.

" _Now, I'm going to explain this very slowly ok?_ "

The teen nodded to a shelf of vodka.

" _Turn around slowly_."

The boy turned around and came face to face with deans' magnum, a violent shiver running through his body. The taller man stood behind the gun wielding maniac, his eyes downcast and his body stooped.

" _I'm not going to shoot you unless you make me angry. Now I'm not a very hard guy to get angry_."

A self indulgent smirk lit up his face, the gun still carefully trained on the teenager.

" _You can quite easily keep me from being angry, just by doing what I say. Now, that doesn't sound too hard does it._ " His words were harsh and biting.

The teen shook his head vigorously.

" _Right. Good boy. I need you to keep your hands behind your head, so I know you won't be able to set of any alarms for the police. But I know you wouldn't do that to me anyway, would you-_ "

Dean glanced at the teens name badge.

 _"-Alex._ "

Alex shook his head once again and placed two violently shaking hands behind his head.

" _Well done. I need you to take out your wallet and place it on the counter, next to the booze. Once you've done that, i want you to place your hands back onto your head. And I want you to do all of that very slowly._ "

Alex nodded, his eyes going misty with tears, taking his wallet that was a gift from his mother on his 12th birthday and placing it on the counter, the tears now threatening to spill.

" _Thank you Alex._ "

Sam snatched the wallet, and looked through. $50 and a picture of a happy looking young girl, dog eared and torn. Wasn't anything spectacular.

He slid the money into his pocket and threw the wallet back onto the counter.

" _Pretty girl._ " Sam mumbled.

Alex glanced at him, bewildered, tears streaking his face.

" _Alex_." Alex's attention turned back to dean, and of course his gun.

" _I'm going to give you this plastic bag, ok? I need you to put all the cash in the register in there, slowly of course. If you try to pull anything funny, I will shoot._ "

His movements slow and arduous, Alex followed deans instruction, his hands shaking as he pulled wads of his hard earned money and threw them into the bag. He pushed the hefty bag to the edge of the counter, and flinched as he heard the guns safety go off.

" _Slower Alex, please._ "

" _Sorry_ ," Alex mumbled, his voice quivering.

He watched as the taller guy, the reserved one, pull the bag off the counter and hold it to his chest.

Alex could've sworn he'd seen a flash of remorse flash through his brooding eyes.

" _Well done Alex! Now that wasn't so hard, was it? I think you did quite well. We're almost done, and then you can go home to your family, yeah?_ "

Alex stood in silence.

" _Now I want your phone, on the counter. Now._ "

Alex pulled out his phone and threw it onto the counter, watching as it clattered. Dean grabbed it and held it up.

" _Now Alex. If you call the police, and tell them anything, anything at all that they could use to find us, and if I find out, which I would, I'll track you to your house, hunt you down, and make you regret that decision. Capiche_?"

Alex swallowed.

" _Alright then. You've been a pleasure Alex. See you later. Keep your hands above your head as we leave please_."

Dean lowered the gun, turning to go, Sam hot on his trail. Alex relaxed slightly, the tension leaving his shoulders and his legs almost giving out, as the duo started to walk towards their car.

He frowned when he saw the older guy stop, and say something to the taller guy. They started to bicker and the tall guy threw up his hands in frustration as the older guy started to jog back up to the door.

He swung the door open and strode through, coming up to the counter. Alex stumbled backwards, a whimper escaping his lips.

This was when he was going to be shot in the head, his brains splattering all over the place. No loose ends left behind.

" _Sorry dude. Just came back for the booze._ "

Alex took a couple of shaky breaths, staring at the guy.

Dean seized the bottle of booze and cigarettes, before pausing, biting his bottom lip in thought.

He reached into his back pocket and slid Alex $50.

" _I'm... sorry._ "

He left the store, leaving many unanswered questions in his wake, climbing into the car. He watched as they pulled out, smoke flying behind them, before finally disappearing from Alex's sight.

He collapsed to the ground, his legs finally giving out. His breathing was heavy and his head was throbbing.

He sat there for what felt like hours, his eyes resting on the $50.

* * *

Sam sat in the car, his head resting on the window, staring out at the shrouded stars and passing trees.

He was glad this one had gone well, unlike the last job, which had resulted in broken bones and stab wounds.

They had gotten about $370, and although that was a hefty amount and would surely pay their bills, he couldn't help but feel slightly melancholic about the whole situation.

He hated how dirty this made him feel. He hated that their dad had forced them into this slum like living, reducing them to basic criminals. They both deserved more than that.

He hated that their dad had left them to go hunt the thing that killed their mother without giving them money, food, or a roof over their head.

After their mother's death, John Winchester was ruined. He ceased to live as a functioning human being. It was excusable for him to be in a deep state of mourning, but it was inexcusable to just leave your two young sons alone in the world.

He left Dean to be the responsible adult as a young teenager, who was just as broken by Johns action as Sam was.

Sam had vouched to himself that he'd never forgive his dad for that. Sam and dean had been placed into the adoption system, which was full of mean kids and manipulative social workers, but had run away together as soon as dean turned 18.

They had moved to Wichita, with dean working 3 jobs at one point to support their needs and pay the rent on their dingy and tiny apartment, while Sam went to school.

Sam graduated with all A's, and had received a scholarship to Harvard.

But of course, there was no chance in hell that Sam would be able to go off to university, get a degree and live his fantasy as a lawyer with a wife and two kids and a beautiful house in the suburbs.

Instead he started work at the mechanics with dean, working the occasional hunting job if it reared it's ugly head, which unfortunately eventually got them fired; too much work time missed.

And that's how they got here. That's what they had been reduced to. None of it was fair, and the resentment Sam held for his father was inconceivable.

All dean wanted was to support Sam, as he had been doing since he was a teen. The last time they'd gotten any messages from their dad was when dean has turned 18, and John Winchester had sent dean a letter, entailing a combination and an address.

Dean had been ecstatic, his dream of a happy family becoming a reality, hoping that when he arrived, dean would be greeted by his long lost dad. Sam remained utterly sceptical.

It was actually just a garage, with no John Winchester inside, but his car.

A 1967 Chevy impala. Dean was delighted, but he couldn't help the disappointment and anger that nagged at the back of his mind.

Sam was pulled from his deep train of thoughts as dean spoke, his fingers drumming lightly on the wheel, and his right hand laying on the window, air whistling past.

" _I gave him $50._ "

Sam frowned and yawned.

" _You did? Why?_ "

Dean glanced out of the window, but Sam could still see the slight smile on his face.

" _I don't know. I felt sorry for him. Guess I'm getting soft._ "

Sam stayed silent, and that's how it remained for the rest of the journey, Sam slowly succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

Dean let them into their apartment, pushing the door open, and bowing graciously in front of the door, waiting for Sam so to go in.

" _Ladies first._ "

Sam rolled his eyes. " _Shut up jerk."_ Sam yawned. He was too tired to get annoyed at dean.

He sluggishly collapsed onto their moth eaten sofa and the springs squealed under his weight.

Dean chuckled, amused by himself, and was about to close the door behind him when their landlord, a small and unpleasant guy, who'd probably never told the truth in his life, slammed his hand agains there door, stopping it from closing.

" _Deano_."

Dean rolled his eyes to Sam, who smirked.

" _Terry_."

Terry smiled and crossed his arms against his chest.

" _I hate to be demanding, but your rent's overdue. By two weeks. And deano, as much as you know I love you, I just can't wait any longer. I have my own... payments to be made._ "

Terry grinned and gave dean a knowing nod. Dean grimaced.

" _Yeah alright Terry, I really didn't need to know. But I have the money._ "

Dean pulled his recent winnings out slightly reluctantly.

" _Ah, you're a good kid deano. Pay up_." Terry was eyeing the wad of cash hungrily.

Dean handed over a good amount of their money and Sam sighed disappointedly from the sofa.

" _Thanks deano. You be having a good night alright?_ "

" _Alright terry. You too_." Dean said monotonously.

" _You bet I will._ " He smirked sleazily and turned away.

" _Be Seeing you kid_."

" _Sure_." Dean said, slamming the door shut.

Dean spun around, raising his eyebrows at Sam, who smiled in return, lazily flicking through the TV channels.

Dean walked into their kitchen, dumping the measly remains of their money into a drawer, pouring himself and Sam a drink.

He sat down next to Sam, putting both drinks on the coffee table, his actions slow and ritualistic.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, dean focused on the tv screen, fading out of reality, mildly aware of the moving people on the tv screen.

Dean jumped when he heard Sam talking.

" _I'm gonna hit the sack_."

Dean sat up, looking at the empty cup on the table then at Sam.

" _We're meeting Ellen tomorrow about a job she has for us. Be up by 11._ "

" _Yep. Alright._ "

Sam stretched himself out and walked over to the bathroom, casting a glance back to his brother who was taking another sip of his drink.

He shut the door behind him and twisted the lock.

Sam turned on the flickering light, and the naked bulb cast a light on the growing mould creeping up the dirty walls.

He needed it.

His dirty little secret, that he'd successfully hidden from dean for the past year.

A year ago, when Sam had realised his dream of Harvard definitely wasn't going to become a reality.

And so he pulled out that familiar little orange pill container, downing 3, trying to ignore the feeling of immense guilt he felt.

It wouldn't be long before the effects kick in, wouldn't be long before he would be peacefully knocked out, wouldn't be long before the thoughts that so often plagued his mind as he laid in bed, would be happily diverted, and a dreamless sleep would claim him.

He loved it, but he hated it.

And so in the morning he woke up, with no recollection of how he had gotten there, and he prepared to face yet another day.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated, as the basically fuel my inspiration.**

 **hope you liked it! Xx**


	2. Warned You

**Hello everybody!**

 **So this chapter is out earlier than I expected, cos I originally planned on writing much, much more, but I reasoned that this 'flashback chapter' would be enough for a filler chapter while I write the next one.**

 **Anyway, thank you for sticking with me since last year, and I hope you really like this chapter.**

 **lily (Oxygenhelpsyouwrite)**

* * *

Sam snaked through the trees, his vision blurring as tears formed in his eyes. The crisp autumn leaves crunched under his pounding footsteps.

His aching lungs were threatening to entirely give up on him, and the sound of his wheezing breath and constantly quick heartbeat was all he could focus on.

The mantra that was running circles in his mind was of course, get home alive for Dean. Get home alive. He looked behind him, scanning the forest for anything-

A dull thud followed by a sudden cry and before Sam realised what had happened, he was lying on his back, dazed and confused. His head throbbed, and he felt a dribble of moisture drip down the side of his face.

Out of breath and his whole body hurting, he stared up at the stars. Lying on his pillow of leaves, he felt himself drifting off to the peaceful silence, thoroughly exhausted.

" _Here he is._ "

Panic ran through Sam's body, and grimacing, he attempted to lift his lead body off the ground.

" _Where do you think you're going_?"

Sam was now desperately using all his energy to stand up, going lightheaded as he reached eye level with a cruel and leering face standing close.

A tired whimper escaped Sam's now bloodstained lips.

The boy simply smirked.

" _You haven't got big brother Dean here to protect you now, huh?_ "

Sam took a step backwards, limping, as he noticed another jogging body appear from the wilderness.

The boy took a step forward, confident now his backup had arrived.

A cruel sneer appeared on his face.

" _You think you're better than us, yeah?_ "

Sam shook his head nervously, looking down at the forest floor, his breathing heavy and his body stooped in surrender.

He heard an unfamiliar voice scoff.

" _Pussy_." Was hissed under a breath.

Sam took another step back, avoiding eye contact with both of them.

" _I'm not... I'm not scared of you._ " Sam's voice shook nervously despite his efforts to keep calm.

A unanimous laughter erupted from the boys, who's cruel laughs lasted for much longer than natural.

A hard punch landed on Sam's face, blood spurting from his lips and his whole body spun towards the ground.

" _Not so tough now, huh?_ " He was angry, and his voice bit at Sam as he lay in shocked silence, checking for any missing teeth.

The two boys, who Sam had seen around in school from time to time, never left each other's side. They were co-dependant, and never hurt Sam without the other there to leer them on.

This, though, was the first time Sam had ever felt this scared. The first time there was actual fear for his life.

" _you're nothing Sam. And neither is your brother. He's a fag, and so are you, And you both deserve to be put down. Like dogs._ "

They were egging each other on now, and there was no chance of them just backing away and leaving Sam to go home to Dean.

" _Please... just... go away._ " Sam mumbled, his lips swollen and his whole face aching.

" _Yeah. Of course_."

A swift kick to Sam's groin elicited a pained cry and a chuckle from one of the boys.

And a kick to the head thoroughly sent Sam out of this world, his head throbbing and his hearing shot. His carefully controlled anger had been rising throughout their words, but Sam didn't want to take action.

He didn't want to reach into his back pocket and dig out his pocket knife, and instantly stoop to the level of these dicks.

But now, as he was hunched over on the cold ground, his dignity thoroughly discarded and a stream of blood dripping from lips, he had reached his peak.

And there was no tolerance left now, because if he died now, dean would be alone and Sam would be a goddamn disappointment, who couldn't stick up for himself.

And so with that, Sam picked himself up off the ground, again, stumbling backwards as his legs almost gave out.

" _What's this? Sammy's finally gonna become a man?_ " They were confident as ever, and that only angered Sam further.

Sam limped forward and landed the first, hard punch. And he didn't stop until the two bullies were unconscious. Or worse. Sam didn't know, and couldn't tell, their faces eerily shrouded.

A soft breeze drifting through the forest brought him back to reality, and sent a shiver down his spine. Sam's eyes widened as he looked at the scene in front of him.

" _Oh my god_." Escaped as a barely audible exhale.

The two boys lay haphazardly on the ground, wet blood covering their faces. Their eyes were closed, and their bodies frighteningly still.

Sam glanced at his bloody hand, his stomach churning as he scanned the torn skin on his knuckles.

Sam backed away silently, his vision swimming.

" _Oh my god._ "

Sam spun on his heels and ran.

* * *

The sky was alive with a rumble of deafening thunder as Sam ran out of the maze of dense trees and closer to a place he often referred to as a nightmare.

But when Sam caught sight of the crumbling brick work of the children's home, relief spread through his body.

He needed to see Dean, more than he'd needed anything before in his life.

* * *

Dean was heading inside, wary of the darkening sky, abandoning the car he had been working on for the owner of the orphanage,

who had asked for it to be done as an unpaid favour. Dean fundamentally objected to the prospect of unpaid work, but he theorised that they probably would've kicked him out or something if he'd refused.

He was hoping Sam would come home soon, as the prospect of his little brother, unprotected in the forest worried him no end.

* * *

Sam called deans name, his voice hoarse and desperate.

Dean spun around, his eyes wide as he took in Sam's bedraggled and bloody appearance.

" _Oh jesus, Sam_ ," Dean muttered as he ran towards his brother, who was now slowing down as dean neared him.

Sam flung his arms around deans neck, feeling the familiar fabric of his shirt, and as deans comforting and homely smell hit him, Sam started sobbing, relaxing into deans firm arms as he embraced Sam.

" _Jesus Sammy, what happened to you_?" Deans voice shook slightly, obviously distraught with this whole shitty situation.

Sammy just shook his head and continued to vigorously sob, his heaving body encased in deans safe presence.

They stood there for what felt like hours, until a light patter of rain on the top of their heads turned into a heavier, more dense pour.

" _Sammy_."

Sams tears had dried slightly, until he remembered the reason for his downpour of tears, sending him back into a downward spiral of emotions.

" _Oh_..."

Sam pulled himself out of deans arms, looking into his concerned emerald eyes.

" _Sammy_?" Dean gave Sam a inquisitive look.

" _Dean I... I think I killed them._ " Sams voice faltered and broke as he uttered the last words, breaking eye contact with dean, ashamed of what his big brother would think of him know he was a murderer.

" _What? Sammy, what are you talking about?_ "

Dean looked at Sam's bloody nose and the dried blood on his chin and mouth, and anger surged through him.

" _Who did that to you Sammy? I swear, I'll kill them_." The poor choice of words led to Sam letting out a cry, putting his aching head in his bloody hands.

" _Exactly! I think... i must've killed them._ "

The rain was tipping down now, thunder rumbling overhead.

" _Who, Sam?_ " Dean was trying to hide his anger beneath a calm and sensible demeanour.

Sam turned around to look at the trees in the distance.

" _Those boys... the ones that were talking to me last week after school. I think I told you they were my friends._ " Sam looked at dean, unsure of how he would react.

" _Son of a bitch._ " Dean muttered, scanning the forest behind them.

" _Can we go and check if they're... alive_.."

" _Yeah sammy. Of course._ " Dean thought to himself that he'd surely kill them if Sam hadn't finished the job.

And so they ran off, Dean following Sam, watching him with a careful eye.

* * *

They were gone. The scene was silent and still, and to a lazy and unobservant eye you'd never have know anyone had been there, but Dean quickly noticed the patches of flattened grass where the two boys had lain.

Dean heard an audible sigh of relief from Sam, before he sat down, putting his head between his knees and breathing heavily.

Dean felt the shared relief for his little brother, but he couldn't help the dissatisfaction he felt from not finishing the fight Sam had started. But right now, the only important thing was sam. His little brother, who was the main priority in Dean's life, was hurt.

" _Hey, sammy?_ " Dean knelt down next to sam, his voice sympathetic.

Sam looked up at dean, his eyes exhausted and his skin scarily pale.

" _I have to say buddy, you're not looking too good._ "

Sam rolled his eyes and smirked.

" _Whatever, jerk._ "

Dean smiled.

" _Bitch_."

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute.

" _Let's go home, yeah? I don't want you dying on me today._ "

" _Yeah_."

Dean turned around to go.

" _Dean_?"

" _Sammy_?"

" _Thank you._ "

* * *

 **thanks for reading! Reviews are always nice, btw...**

 **Lily**


	3. Naturally Lazy

**Hi everyone,**

 **i hope you liked last weeks chapter, and I hope you like this one.**

 **lily xx**

* * *

Sam's back arched in pain as the Wendigo curled its ugly talons around his neck, picking him up like a rag doll and keeping him cruelly suspended as his lungs ached to breathe.

" _Sammy_!" Sam heard deans reassuring voice getting closer, and with a loud bang, he thudded harshly to the floor, gulping in air.

Dean knelt down besides him, his rough hands checking Sam's neck.

" _Fuck_..." Sam coughed as the words scraped harshly out of his throat.

" _Get him, dean._." he managed to get out, his voice hoarse.

Dean gave Sam his shit eating grin, slapping Sam lightly across his cheek.

And with that, dean ran off after the Wendigo, it's eerily long legs carrying it further and further away from dean.

He got out his home-made flamethrower, slowing down as the Wendigo came to a suspicious halt.

Dean stayed where he was, nervously breathing and squinting his eyes in the dark as he searched for any movement from the freak.

A sharp and cold pain sliced across deans face, crying out as he felt warm blood spurt.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over something slightly squishy. He fell hard, and lay for a second in shock, winded and in pain.

And then the Wendigo was on top of him, his claw like fingers raking across deans chest.

Dean screamed, red hot pain coursing through him and leaving him weak.

* * *

Sam heard deans cry, and he went cold, his stomach churning at the thought of all the possible ways dean could've gotten hurt.

Pulling himself up off the putrid ground with the sewage pipe as his support, groaning as pain coursed through his body.

He began limping towards where dean had run off to, gulping down his growing fear.

The dripping and hissing of the sewage system disguising any noises to give away where the Wendigo was.

And he didn't notice the Wendigo creeping up behind him as he knelt next to dean, his hands frantically searching for any lethal wounds.

Sam was knocked off of his feet by an unnatural force, but managed to spin around to land on his back, grabbing deans flamethrower, which had landed by deans lifeless feet.

He pulled the trigger, his eyes sparkling as an elongated long body became a candle, the pale wax of his skin dripping off in tendrils.

It screamed an inhuman, disturbing cry, before entirely dissolving into a pile of discoloured goop on the floor.

Sam's eyes were wide, and his finger was held on the trigger as he watched in horror and awe.

Sam took a deep breath.

His eyes wondered to deans unconscious state.

" _Dean_!"

Sam scuttled forward, his bloodied hands instinctively going towards deans neck, checking for a pulse.

Sam closed his eyes in relief as he felt the faint and worryingly slow pulse.

With a forceful slap, Dean was brought back to the waking world in a jolt. He looked up at Sam's worried face, and with a smirk, asked Sam what had taken him so long.

" _Shut up jerk._ "

Dean sniggered, resting his head on the ground as the strength left him.

" _Dean, let's get out of here. Please._ "

And with Sam's desperate and worried plight, dean 'sprung' into action, Sam wrapping deans surprisingly weak arm around his neck, hoisting all of deans weight and muscle onto Sam's 6'4 frame.

As they passed the puddle of wendigo, dean spat down onto it, Sam huffing at him.

Approaching the light, dean and Sam limping together as a joint person towards the impala, knowing that a bottle of whiskey and a needle and thread would be waiting for them.

Plunging into the open air, their eyes squinting at the blasting Kansas sun, they fell against the impala.

" _Jesus Christ..._ "

Sam huffed.

" _Are you sure you're not bleeding out_?"

Dean gingerly pressed a dirty hand against his bloody t shirt.

" _Not yet._ "

Sam nodded.

" _That's_ _Good_."

The heat of the impalas smooth black metal was felt through their clothing, and the sweat was already festering on their foreheads.

" _I need a cigarette_." Dean murmured, reaching into his back pocket.

Sam frowned.

" _Are you really sure that's a good idea_?"

Dean scoffed.

 _"I don't care._ " Was muffled as he lit the cigarette in his mouth.

They learnt against the impala in comfortable silence as dean smoked his cigarette, occasionally passing to Sam.

The city around them hummed distantly, and Sam observed its ruckus from a distance, as they had travelled to the outskirts of the city for this dirty job.

The city and the cigarette was the only thing Sam could focus on, as this was his usual time to take his next dose. He had his hands tightly clasped together, as he knew that if let free, they'd be shaking violently, and it wouldn't have gone unnoticed.

Dean blew out the last puff of tainted smoke, and looked sideways at Sam's tense figure, frowning.

" _You alright, buddy_?"

Sam jumped, startled by deans voice.

" _Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine._ " Sam lied through his teeth, taking the cigarette.

* * *

The sunset drifted through the moth eaten curtains, shining through countless empty bottles of beer.

A house on the south east of town sat stagnant, in a seedy neighbourhood, the wood rotten and the windows long shattered.

" _We need money."_

The two men, who were so roughly kept and malnourished that they could either be 20 years old or 50 years old, sat opposite each other, their eyes wild and their conversation hushed.

" _Yes. I know._ " He bit his words out, obviously frustrated.

" _And blood."_

The other guy, who seemed to be melting into a disease infested arm chair, sat up as he spoke, hissing.

" _You think I don't know that? I'm just as hungry as you Jake_."

Jake scoffed.

" _Well you don't seem to be doing anything about it."_

The other guy shook his head and sant lethargically back into their sofa, closing his eyes as he took a drag from a blunt.

They sat silently for a minute before Jake sat up.

" _You know that guy... Sam... what is it again?"_

" _Winchester_."

Jake clicked.

" _Yes! He could do us for both. He owes us, remember?_ "

The other guy nodded.

" _He fucked us over that one time. I remember."_

" _Alright then. It's settled."_

* * *

 ** _thanks for reading, reviews are always welcome xx_**


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